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somarielDivine Snit Fits Occasionally Bring Good Things (4302 words) by Somariel
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Zaknafein Do'Urden, Qilué Veladorn, Elkantar Iluim, Drizzt Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast
Summary:
Zaknafein finished the food before the music and dancing came to an end, though there was still water in the skin Qilué had given him.
And once he had, he turned the portion of his attention that had been devoted to eating towards watching Qilué specifically—something made easy by her uncommon tallness for a drow.
As he watched, however, he found himself becoming somewhat confused. Because for all that it was clear to him that Qilué was the leader of these drow, there was none of the deference that a high priestess of Lloth would require from those around her.
And when the dancing ended, Zak found himself actually surprised, as—based on the fact that she was accepting drinks from the waterskins of others instead of using one of her own—it appeared that not only had she given him her only waterskin, she did not expect anyone to fully give up theirs as a replacement.
As everyone scattered to towel off the sweat and put back on the clothes they had discarded for the dancing, Elkantar casually took another look around the clearing, confirming that their mysteriously appearing newcomer still seemed to have most of his attention focused on Qilué.
And once his tunic was back on and he was buckling his swordbelt, he quietly mentioned that focus to his consort.
"I know, love," she answered. "Given what the musteval said about him, I'd be surprised if he wasn't doing that."
"He's very newly escaped, then?"
"I don't think he had escaped before Someone... mmm, not pleased with Lolth... intervened in his life."
Elkantar winced. "So he hasn't even had a chance to live free of the forced roles Lolthite society demands.
"Do you want me to take over dealing with him?"
"I think that would be for the best, yes."
Zak's attention had necessarily widened somewhat when the other drow scattered around the open area where the dancing had taken place, but he still had enough of it on Qilué to notice immediately when the man she had been speaking with began to head towards him.
As he moved towards the newcomer—Zaknafein Do'Urden, Qilué had said his name was—Elkantar saw that his approach had not gone unnoticed, and Zaknafein had stood up from his seat by the roots of the tree he was under.
The man stopped at a distance Zak easily saw was calculated to put him at ease over being unarmed while the man had a sword attached to his belt, and said, "Greetings, Zaknafein. I am Elkantar."
"Greetings," Zaknafein replied, his tone and face both carefully neutral.
In the face of that neutrality, Elkantar decided it would be best to simply explain why he had come over to Zaknafein. "Qilué and I both think that you will be most comfortable with another man acting as your guide while you adjust to life at the Promenade of the Dark Maiden.
"So if it is agreeable to you, I will be your guide."
Zak took some time to consider the offer from all sides, but in the end concluded that there was no harm in accepting, if it had been made in full honesty.
"As long as you are truly just a guide, I accept," Zak said.
"We compel no one," Elkantar replied. "And if you end up deciding that life at the Promenade does not suit you, there is, nearby, a developing center for business of a more common nature for drow where you could seek employment."
"Unlikely, but good to know," Zak said. "I've had my fill of that sort of business."
"Then if you will follow me, I will start by showing you the way to the portal back to the Promenade."
"Very well."
By the time he was settled into quarters of his own, with several new sets of clothing—including boots—Zaknafein was starting to feel rather overwhelmed.
So when Elkantar asked if there was anything else he could get for Zak before he sought his own rest, Zak gratefully declined.
Once he had locked the door behind Elkantar, he shed the clothing that the other man had loaned him before taking him to choose his new clothes, and put on one of his new sleep shirts, then laid down on the bed.
And although he had only intended to meditate, the sudden upending of everything he was accustomed to—regardless of how much he had hated those ways—proved to have been more tiring than he realized, as he was soon fast asleep.
After the morning meal, Elkantar began a proper tour of the Promenade for Zaknafein, showing him how to get to the different areas and pointing out features of the caverns and tunnels that could be used as markers for remembering where each led to.
But although he had expected the other man's mingled sorrow and joy on seeing the Promenade's current drow children playing freely and without fear, the expression of what Elkantar could only call wistful hunger on Zaknafein's face as they entered the training hall to see Rylla and Sriva demonstrating a technique for the current handful of students was a surprise.
"Did you enjoy fighting, in your previous home?" Elkantar asked quietly.
"Not so much fighting as the testing of skill against a worthy opponent, rare as it was to find someone who could give me a decent challenge."
"Ah," Elkantar sighed. "Well, our Weapon Mistress there is the most skilled fighter at the Promenade, and will always welcome a chance to sharpen her own skills, if you wish to spar with her."
Zaknafein's expression brightened for a moment, before returning to the wistful hunger. "I do not have any weapons right now."
"If that is truly the only obstacle, we can go look at what is in the armory and see if anything there suits you."
Zak blinked in surprise, as he had truly not expected to be trusted with weapons so soon after his unusual arrival among these goodly drow.
But if Elkantar was willing to offer him such, he would gladly accept, so he nodded, and said, "Lead the way, then."
While it had taken longer than Elkantar had expected to find suitable weapons for Zaknafein, they had, eventually, found two longswords that matched well enough to satisfy the other man.
A sword-belt to hold the sheaths was substantially easier to choose, and then, belt and swords adjusted to Zaknafein's satisfaction, the two of them left the armory and returned to watching the lesson Rylla was teaching.
Rylla noted the return of Elkantar and last night's newcomer with a corner of her awareness, but since they had stopped at a respectful distance from the lesson, she remained focused on teaching until the lesson was over.
But once she had dismissed the students, she went over to greet them.
"Welcome, Elkantar! I take it you're showing our newcomer around?"
"Indeed," Elkantar replied. Then, turning to Zaknafein, he introduced her.
"A pleasure to meet you, Zaknafein," Rylla said. "I see that Elkantar has already helped you find suitable weapons, but please feel free to use this training hall anytime it is not being used for a lesson.
"And while you are certainly welcome to arrange your own sparring partners, if you wish assistance in finding someone of an appropriate skill level, I will gladly help you."
"Elkantar suggested that I might be able to spar with you?"
Zaknafein's response wasn't quite a question, Rylla noted, but it wasn't truly a statement, either.
Which, admittedly, was rather to be expected of a man newly come to the Promenade who was making such a comment to a woman.
"I am always glad to find new people to test my own skills against," she replied. "Do you wish to spar now?"
Zak blinked twice in surprise at the Weapon Mistress's easy acceptance of a comment that would have been—at the very least—pushing the limits for most Llothite women, then said, "I would like that very much."
"Then I will be pleased to do so."
Elkantar had known Zaknafein would be quite good with his blades, just from the simple confidence with which the man had commented on the difficulty of finding sparring partners who could actually provide a challenge, or he never would have suggested Rylla as a sparring partner.
But as the match with Rylla wore on, he found himself watching with growing amazement as Zaknafein's every movement proved that he was better than Rylla, and to a degree that Elkantar would have sworn was impossible.
And not quite an hour and a half after they had started, Rylla was the one to end it, managing to move one of Zaknafein's swords out of position far enough for her to safely disengage.
It wasn't until after he had sheathed his blades, feeling quite pleased with the match, that Zaknafein truly registered the size of the crowd that he had vaguely sensed gathering while he sparred with Rylla.
Elkantar had warned him, before the match started, that unless he explicitly requested otherwise, people would come to watch, but Zak had thought the number of spectators would be a few dozen at most, not what seemed like it must be the entire population of this place!
His attention was drawn back to Rylla when she bowed to him, and then, once she rose from the bow, he received another surprise.
"Zaknafein Do'Urden," she began, "you have no peer with the blade that I know of.
"I would be honored if you would agree to aid me in teaching those residents of the Promenade who choose to learn the use of weapons."
But for all that he was shocked to be offered such trust so soon after his arrival, it also resolved his unease over not having any way to earn the aid he was being given.
So he returned the bow, and said, "I would be very pleased to accept your offer."
As time passed, Zaknafein slowly acclimated to the Promenade, settling into teaching weapons-work with what Elkantar would almost call relief and developing a friendship with him.
But even as the friendship grew to the point that he received permission to call the other man "Zak", Elkantar couldn't help but worry over how much pain was in Zak every time he saw Ysolde freely expressing her love and adoration for her father.
Despite his worries, however, Elkantar had no intention of pushing on the matter unless something further came to light.
And then, not quite four weeks after Zak had arrived at the Promenade, Rylla came to him with some concerns of her own about Zak.
"He loves teaching the younger students," she told Elkantar, "but I also see how much pain it brings him, like it reminds him of a student whose loss is still fresh.
"And sometimes the pain seems strong enough that I wonder if I should have him stick to working with the adults.
"You're the one of us who's closest to him, so I thought you might have a better idea of if I actually should."
Elkantar sighed. "I'll talk to him. As your observations on what brings him pain intersect with my own to a point where I think pushing on the matter is necessary for his healing."
Elkantar had gotten Rylla's agreement on borrowing her office for the talk—it being familiar enough that Zak would feel comfortable, but also not being Zak's own rooms, which meant he had a place to retreat to if discussing the matter ended up proving to be too painful to manage—and then had arranged a meeting with Zak for that evening.
Zak's feelings had apparently been festering, because it had not taken much pushing at all for him to start talking about his daughter... and his son.
His son, whose innate goodness was so strong that he was often unable to suppress it well enough to fit in with Lolthite society, the choices his son had made as a result of that nature, and the events that had spiraled out as a consequence of those choices.
And now, Zak was wrapping up the tale. "...Whoever it was that re-embodied me, They left me with orders to avoid dying anytime in the next century, and to find a patron, as well as the knowledge that my son is alive somewhere."
"Well," Elkantar said, "that is... a lot to take in. But for the moment... may I tell Qilué about Drizzt?
"Scrying ought to be able to locate him, and even if none of our people are in a position to approach him, we have allies on the Surface who can move around far more easily."
Zak took a moment to consider the offer, weighing its sincerity and how freely the people here helped each other against the caution that his centuries in Menzoberranzan had ingrained in him, and sighed.
"Drizzt, yes, and you may even tell her about my re-embodiment, but not Vierna."
"Thank you. Though I do want to make sure that you realize telling her about your re-embodiment will result in her investigating Who was responsible."
"I rather assumed as much," Zak replied, "or I wouldn't have given you permission to do so."
"Very well, then."
Two nights later, Elkantar took a seat in Zak's rooms and after a deep breath to settle himself, he told the other man, "I have good news and odd news."
Zak's ingrained pessimism had had him bracing himself against whatever Elkantar was going to say, but at those words, he let out a sigh of relief.
"Might as well share the odd news first," he said.
"Qilué's own attempt to scry for Drizzt did not work," Elkantar said. "It didn't fail due to resistance, it just... didn't work at all.
"And consulting with Eilistraee about it revealed that She was wholly unaware of Drizzt's existence, despite the fact that She should be aware of every good drow."
Zak frowned. "That is odd. Though given that Drizzt was Malice's thirdborn son, it makes me wonder if Lloth did something to hide him."
Elkantar took a moment to consider that idea. "That... actually makes a certain amount of sense, even if it does carry the implication that the Spider Queen was fully aware of Drizzt's goodly nature."
"Not necessarily," Zak countered. "Given what you've told me of the Masked God, He may have been the one Lloth desired to hide Drizzt from.
"But since I don't think there's anything that can be done to figure it out right now, what's the good news?"
"Our Surface allies were successful in using arcane magic to scry for Drizzt, and have confirmed he's somewhere on the Surface, though we do not yet have any location other than 'northern mountains'."
"They'll keep up the scrying, then?"
"Until we get a location specific enough to teleport to, yes."
Paradoxically enough, having confirmation that Drizzt was alive and on the Surface caused Zak's thoughts to turn towards his son more frequently than before.
Thankfully, he had plenty of other things he could use to distract himself from dwelling on those thoughts.
In addition to the assisting with teaching weapons-work that he had already been doing, he took Elkantar up on the offer to teach him Surface Common, and the two of them also spent a fair bit of time planning how to handle things once Drizzt's actual location was determined.
That planning also resulted in Elkantar explaining the details of how Qilué was connected to the Promenade's Surface allies, which not only gave Zak a new source of food for thought, it also brought about the project of figuring out a means of calculating how long it had been since the fateful raid that had been the catalyst for everything.
That information, once obtained, was passed on to the Tall Ones, so they could find the child Drizzt had spared and make sure she was receiving the help she needed to recover from the trauma of the raid.
And then, three and a half months after Zak's unexpected arrival at the Promenade, Elkantar came and told him that they finally knew where Drizzt was, which released one source of tension even as another took its place.
Drizzt's observation post was close enough to the farmhouse that nobody thought it would be a good idea to try and approach him without a second person to manage the farmers if it proved necessary.
So once Andy had found a spot from which he could watch both the farmers and the tree concealing Drizzt, he let Dove use his eyes to teleport in.
Given the children that were working close to the house, Dove felt, and Andy agreed, that their best chance of talking to Drizzt without the farmers getting involved would be during the midday meal. So they settled down to wait.
And when the woman who had to be the children's mother came out and rang the large bell on the farmhouse porch, Andy and Dove began moving through the edge of the trees towards Drizzt almost before the children started towards the house.
A little while after the entire family, including the boy who had been dropped in the pig trough, had entered the house, Drizzt heard quiet footsteps approaching from the left, slightly to his rear—and closer than he had expected anyone to be able to get to him.
But even as he began turning to see who had discovered him, the footsteps stopped, and a voice spoke in Goblin.
"No fight, Drizzt Do'Urden. Talk only."
Startled by the use of his name, Drizzt drew his blades even as he finished turning, and saw that the speaker was a now equally startled tall faerie.
The faerie's eyes and ears were oddly blunted, he was wearing a sword-belt over modified wizard robes... and his hands were held out in front of him, palm-up, open, and empty.
That last was enough for Drizzt to sheathe his blades, though he kept his hands near the hilts.
"How know name?" he asked, in the same language.
"Much talking to tell," the faerie replied. "Will tell, away from here."
After taking a moment to consider things—he had not yet seen anything conclusive while observing the family, but their interactions so far were much more like what he had seen in Blingdenstone than anything resembling Menzoberranzan, and he truly did need to know how the faerie had learned his name—Drizzt decided to ask another question.
"What name?" he said, pointing at the faerie.
"Andelver Aerasumé. Small name Andy."
Drizzt nodded. That the faerie had been willing to share his own name resolved his indecision. "Will come with. Go, will follow."
The faerie returned the nod, then turned to start heading deeper into the trees, and Drizzt followed him.
The faerie walked for just long enough that Drizzt thought they were probably out of human earshot of the house as long as neither of them raised their voices, and then sat down on a rock, gesturing for Drizzt to take a seat on a nearby fallen tree.
And once he had, the faerie looked at him seriously and said, "Use magic, no hurt, make good Surface words?"
That was obviously a request for permission, but Drizzt wasn't sure he wanted to trust the faerie that far yet. "Why Surface words?" he countered. "Why not Drow?"
"Drow bad language for telling. Not have words needed."
If Drizzt had not had the time in Blingdenstone, he wouldn't have believed the faerie's reason—but he had had it, so he did believe, and knew that he would have to let the faerie cast on him despite his distrust.
But he could at least make it clear that that was the only reason he was giving permission. "Do not trust. Know Drow missing words. Use magic for Surface words."
Moving slowly and carefully, the faerie cast the spell, and once Drizzt felt the magic take hold, he said, in the language the spell provided, "No one on the Surface should know my name and yet you do. How?"
"As I said," the faerie replied, "it's a long story. But it begins three and a half months ago, at a minor ritual for one of the deities you were falsely taught to believe were lying demons..."
Drizzt listened with growing incredulity and disbelief as the faerie spun out a tale involving two deities—one of them supposedly a good drow goddess—a community of good drow who followed that supposedly good goddess, a claim to his father's soul that the other deity supposedly had due to the reason for his death, and the actions said deity had supposedly taken when Zaknafein's soul had returned to Their keeping after being stolen from Their realm by Lloth.
When the faerie finished, Drizzt was silent for a long time, simply letting it all sink in.
And when he finally spoke, it was just four words. "I don't believe you."
"Would you believe Zaknafein?" the faerie asked. "One of my brothers will bring him if you want to speak with him."
Drizzt blinked in surprise. The faerie was offering to let him speak with the supposed Zaknafein here, not requiring him to go elsewhere to do so?
Could he take the risk, when he truly did not believe his father had actually been re-embodied? Did he have any way to determine if it actually was his father, despite all the odds against it?
That thought pulled up the memory of the fight with his father's effigy—specifically, the means by which he had determined that Zaknafein's spirit was present in it, not just the muscle memory. He had never used that move against anyone else, and while Malice's control of the effigy might have given her knowledge of the move itself, only Zaknafein would know the reason why Drizzt had developed it.
Which meant if he figured out the right words, there was a question he could ask that would let him be absolutely certain whether or not it was actually his father.
So once he felt that he knew how to phrase the question properly, he said, "If he is truly my father, I would."
The faerie nodded in response, and then he seemed to focus on something that Drizzt could not perceive. But after a moment, his attention returned to Drizzt, and he said, "I've passed the word that you want to speak to him. My brother will be here with him soon."
Drizzt gave a nod of his own, and reached into his pouch to rub Guen's figure while they waited.
Thankfully for his nerves, it was not long before two pairs of footsteps could be heard coming along their backtrail.
The first person to come into sight was another tall faerie, who bore a great resemblance to the one already with Drizzt.
But behind him... with skin as dark as Drizzt's own, pointed ears sticking up through long, unbound hair just as pale as Drizzt's, and a pair of longswords hanging from his belt, the man truly did look like Zaknafein.
And when he said "Hello, my son," it was Zaknafein's voice, in the same relieved and joyous tone he had used after Drizzt had confessed to sparing the elven child.
But Drizzt had to be sure. So he took a deep breath, and then began to speak in Drow.
"My father once told me that there was no way to improve the correct parry for a certain attack such that the defender would gain an advantage from the parry.
"If you are truly my father, then I ask you to tell me: What is that attack, what is the correct parry, and what did I eventually develop as a successful method of improving the correct parry in the manner you said was impossible?"
The man smiled Zaknafein's pleased smile, and replied, also in Drow, "The attack is the double-thrust low, the correct parry is the cross-down, and your improvement is a kick to the attacker's face after the cross-down."
After a long stunned moment, Drizzt breathed "Father", and then all but launched himself forward to wrap Zaknafein in a hug.
Loath as he was to interrupt such a heartfelt reunion, when a few minutes had passed without Drizzt showing any sign that he intended to end his embrace of Zaknafein anytime soon, Andy gently cleared his throat.
Zaknafein's shift in attention at the sound proved to be enough to break through Drizzt's focus on his father, and once both drow were looking at him, Andy said, "While I do understand how much this moment means to both of you, we ought to collect Aunt Dove and leave while the farmers are still unaware of our presence."
"True," Zak said. "Come on, son. You'll like it at the Promenade."
Zaknafein's agreement wiped away the reluctance Drizzt was displaying, and soon enough, the two drow and the two half-elves had returned to where Dove was waiting, and the five of them teleported to the usual spot near the Promenade's portals.
They ended up having to wait there for a little, while Qilué and Elkantar got free to come meet them, as Qilué had been clear that whatever was keeping Eilistraee from noticing Drizzt needed to be investigated before he actually entered the Promenade.
While they were waiting, Drizzt was asked about why he had been watching the farmers, and once he explained about the gnolls that he had killed because they intended to attack the farm, Dove decided to investigate the matter further, just in case the gnolls had been part of some larger threat.
And once Mystra, acting through Dove and Qilué, had removed the shroud the Spider Queen had laid on Drizzt, they all entered the Promenade.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Zaknafein Do'Urden, Qilué Veladorn, Elkantar Iluim, Drizzt Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast
Summary:
When a very annoyed minor deity re-embodied Zaknafein and left him at the Promenade of the Dark Maiden, They imparted to him two commands and a piece of knowledge.
Not dying anytime in the next century? That should be easy now that he's out of the pit of misery that Menzoberranzan is.
Finding a patron? The Spider Bitch made him disinclined to take one, but the Dark Maiden seems like she might actually be reasonable.
Knowing that his son is alive somewhere? That's... going to be more difficult to resolve.
A fic that picks up where Merfilly's abandoned fic "Pyrra's Snit Fit" left off.
Divine Snit Fits Occasionally Bring Good Things
Zaknafein finished the food before the music and dancing came to an end, though there was still water in the skin Qilué had given him.
And once he had, he turned the portion of his attention that had been devoted to eating towards watching Qilué specifically—something made easy by her uncommon tallness for a drow.
As he watched, however, he found himself becoming somewhat confused. Because for all that it was clear to him that Qilué was the leader of these drow, there was none of the deference that a high priestess of Lloth would require from those around her.
And when the dancing ended, Zak found himself actually surprised, as—based on the fact that she was accepting drinks from the waterskins of others instead of using one of her own—it appeared that not only had she given him her only waterskin, she did not expect anyone to fully give up theirs as a replacement.
As everyone scattered to towel off the sweat and put back on the clothes they had discarded for the dancing, Elkantar casually took another look around the clearing, confirming that their mysteriously appearing newcomer still seemed to have most of his attention focused on Qilué.
And once his tunic was back on and he was buckling his swordbelt, he quietly mentioned that focus to his consort.
"I know, love," she answered. "Given what the musteval said about him, I'd be surprised if he wasn't doing that."
"He's very newly escaped, then?"
"I don't think he had escaped before Someone... mmm, not pleased with Lolth... intervened in his life."
Elkantar winced. "So he hasn't even had a chance to live free of the forced roles Lolthite society demands.
"Do you want me to take over dealing with him?"
"I think that would be for the best, yes."
Zak's attention had necessarily widened somewhat when the other drow scattered around the open area where the dancing had taken place, but he still had enough of it on Qilué to notice immediately when the man she had been speaking with began to head towards him.
As he moved towards the newcomer—Zaknafein Do'Urden, Qilué had said his name was—Elkantar saw that his approach had not gone unnoticed, and Zaknafein had stood up from his seat by the roots of the tree he was under.
The man stopped at a distance Zak easily saw was calculated to put him at ease over being unarmed while the man had a sword attached to his belt, and said, "Greetings, Zaknafein. I am Elkantar."
"Greetings," Zaknafein replied, his tone and face both carefully neutral.
In the face of that neutrality, Elkantar decided it would be best to simply explain why he had come over to Zaknafein. "Qilué and I both think that you will be most comfortable with another man acting as your guide while you adjust to life at the Promenade of the Dark Maiden.
"So if it is agreeable to you, I will be your guide."
Zak took some time to consider the offer from all sides, but in the end concluded that there was no harm in accepting, if it had been made in full honesty.
"As long as you are truly just a guide, I accept," Zak said.
"We compel no one," Elkantar replied. "And if you end up deciding that life at the Promenade does not suit you, there is, nearby, a developing center for business of a more common nature for drow where you could seek employment."
"Unlikely, but good to know," Zak said. "I've had my fill of that sort of business."
"Then if you will follow me, I will start by showing you the way to the portal back to the Promenade."
"Very well."
By the time he was settled into quarters of his own, with several new sets of clothing—including boots—Zaknafein was starting to feel rather overwhelmed.
So when Elkantar asked if there was anything else he could get for Zak before he sought his own rest, Zak gratefully declined.
Once he had locked the door behind Elkantar, he shed the clothing that the other man had loaned him before taking him to choose his new clothes, and put on one of his new sleep shirts, then laid down on the bed.
And although he had only intended to meditate, the sudden upending of everything he was accustomed to—regardless of how much he had hated those ways—proved to have been more tiring than he realized, as he was soon fast asleep.
After the morning meal, Elkantar began a proper tour of the Promenade for Zaknafein, showing him how to get to the different areas and pointing out features of the caverns and tunnels that could be used as markers for remembering where each led to.
But although he had expected the other man's mingled sorrow and joy on seeing the Promenade's current drow children playing freely and without fear, the expression of what Elkantar could only call wistful hunger on Zaknafein's face as they entered the training hall to see Rylla and Sriva demonstrating a technique for the current handful of students was a surprise.
"Did you enjoy fighting, in your previous home?" Elkantar asked quietly.
"Not so much fighting as the testing of skill against a worthy opponent, rare as it was to find someone who could give me a decent challenge."
"Ah," Elkantar sighed. "Well, our Weapon Mistress there is the most skilled fighter at the Promenade, and will always welcome a chance to sharpen her own skills, if you wish to spar with her."
Zaknafein's expression brightened for a moment, before returning to the wistful hunger. "I do not have any weapons right now."
"If that is truly the only obstacle, we can go look at what is in the armory and see if anything there suits you."
Zak blinked in surprise, as he had truly not expected to be trusted with weapons so soon after his unusual arrival among these goodly drow.
But if Elkantar was willing to offer him such, he would gladly accept, so he nodded, and said, "Lead the way, then."
While it had taken longer than Elkantar had expected to find suitable weapons for Zaknafein, they had, eventually, found two longswords that matched well enough to satisfy the other man.
A sword-belt to hold the sheaths was substantially easier to choose, and then, belt and swords adjusted to Zaknafein's satisfaction, the two of them left the armory and returned to watching the lesson Rylla was teaching.
Rylla noted the return of Elkantar and last night's newcomer with a corner of her awareness, but since they had stopped at a respectful distance from the lesson, she remained focused on teaching until the lesson was over.
But once she had dismissed the students, she went over to greet them.
"Welcome, Elkantar! I take it you're showing our newcomer around?"
"Indeed," Elkantar replied. Then, turning to Zaknafein, he introduced her.
"A pleasure to meet you, Zaknafein," Rylla said. "I see that Elkantar has already helped you find suitable weapons, but please feel free to use this training hall anytime it is not being used for a lesson.
"And while you are certainly welcome to arrange your own sparring partners, if you wish assistance in finding someone of an appropriate skill level, I will gladly help you."
"Elkantar suggested that I might be able to spar with you?"
Zaknafein's response wasn't quite a question, Rylla noted, but it wasn't truly a statement, either.
Which, admittedly, was rather to be expected of a man newly come to the Promenade who was making such a comment to a woman.
"I am always glad to find new people to test my own skills against," she replied. "Do you wish to spar now?"
Zak blinked twice in surprise at the Weapon Mistress's easy acceptance of a comment that would have been—at the very least—pushing the limits for most Llothite women, then said, "I would like that very much."
"Then I will be pleased to do so."
Elkantar had known Zaknafein would be quite good with his blades, just from the simple confidence with which the man had commented on the difficulty of finding sparring partners who could actually provide a challenge, or he never would have suggested Rylla as a sparring partner.
But as the match with Rylla wore on, he found himself watching with growing amazement as Zaknafein's every movement proved that he was better than Rylla, and to a degree that Elkantar would have sworn was impossible.
And not quite an hour and a half after they had started, Rylla was the one to end it, managing to move one of Zaknafein's swords out of position far enough for her to safely disengage.
It wasn't until after he had sheathed his blades, feeling quite pleased with the match, that Zaknafein truly registered the size of the crowd that he had vaguely sensed gathering while he sparred with Rylla.
Elkantar had warned him, before the match started, that unless he explicitly requested otherwise, people would come to watch, but Zak had thought the number of spectators would be a few dozen at most, not what seemed like it must be the entire population of this place!
His attention was drawn back to Rylla when she bowed to him, and then, once she rose from the bow, he received another surprise.
"Zaknafein Do'Urden," she began, "you have no peer with the blade that I know of.
"I would be honored if you would agree to aid me in teaching those residents of the Promenade who choose to learn the use of weapons."
But for all that he was shocked to be offered such trust so soon after his arrival, it also resolved his unease over not having any way to earn the aid he was being given.
So he returned the bow, and said, "I would be very pleased to accept your offer."
As time passed, Zaknafein slowly acclimated to the Promenade, settling into teaching weapons-work with what Elkantar would almost call relief and developing a friendship with him.
But even as the friendship grew to the point that he received permission to call the other man "Zak", Elkantar couldn't help but worry over how much pain was in Zak every time he saw Ysolde freely expressing her love and adoration for her father.
Despite his worries, however, Elkantar had no intention of pushing on the matter unless something further came to light.
And then, not quite four weeks after Zak had arrived at the Promenade, Rylla came to him with some concerns of her own about Zak.
"He loves teaching the younger students," she told Elkantar, "but I also see how much pain it brings him, like it reminds him of a student whose loss is still fresh.
"And sometimes the pain seems strong enough that I wonder if I should have him stick to working with the adults.
"You're the one of us who's closest to him, so I thought you might have a better idea of if I actually should."
Elkantar sighed. "I'll talk to him. As your observations on what brings him pain intersect with my own to a point where I think pushing on the matter is necessary for his healing."
Elkantar had gotten Rylla's agreement on borrowing her office for the talk—it being familiar enough that Zak would feel comfortable, but also not being Zak's own rooms, which meant he had a place to retreat to if discussing the matter ended up proving to be too painful to manage—and then had arranged a meeting with Zak for that evening.
Zak's feelings had apparently been festering, because it had not taken much pushing at all for him to start talking about his daughter... and his son.
His son, whose innate goodness was so strong that he was often unable to suppress it well enough to fit in with Lolthite society, the choices his son had made as a result of that nature, and the events that had spiraled out as a consequence of those choices.
And now, Zak was wrapping up the tale. "...Whoever it was that re-embodied me, They left me with orders to avoid dying anytime in the next century, and to find a patron, as well as the knowledge that my son is alive somewhere."
"Well," Elkantar said, "that is... a lot to take in. But for the moment... may I tell Qilué about Drizzt?
"Scrying ought to be able to locate him, and even if none of our people are in a position to approach him, we have allies on the Surface who can move around far more easily."
Zak took a moment to consider the offer, weighing its sincerity and how freely the people here helped each other against the caution that his centuries in Menzoberranzan had ingrained in him, and sighed.
"Drizzt, yes, and you may even tell her about my re-embodiment, but not Vierna."
"Thank you. Though I do want to make sure that you realize telling her about your re-embodiment will result in her investigating Who was responsible."
"I rather assumed as much," Zak replied, "or I wouldn't have given you permission to do so."
"Very well, then."
Two nights later, Elkantar took a seat in Zak's rooms and after a deep breath to settle himself, he told the other man, "I have good news and odd news."
Zak's ingrained pessimism had had him bracing himself against whatever Elkantar was going to say, but at those words, he let out a sigh of relief.
"Might as well share the odd news first," he said.
"Qilué's own attempt to scry for Drizzt did not work," Elkantar said. "It didn't fail due to resistance, it just... didn't work at all.
"And consulting with Eilistraee about it revealed that She was wholly unaware of Drizzt's existence, despite the fact that She should be aware of every good drow."
Zak frowned. "That is odd. Though given that Drizzt was Malice's thirdborn son, it makes me wonder if Lloth did something to hide him."
Elkantar took a moment to consider that idea. "That... actually makes a certain amount of sense, even if it does carry the implication that the Spider Queen was fully aware of Drizzt's goodly nature."
"Not necessarily," Zak countered. "Given what you've told me of the Masked God, He may have been the one Lloth desired to hide Drizzt from.
"But since I don't think there's anything that can be done to figure it out right now, what's the good news?"
"Our Surface allies were successful in using arcane magic to scry for Drizzt, and have confirmed he's somewhere on the Surface, though we do not yet have any location other than 'northern mountains'."
"They'll keep up the scrying, then?"
"Until we get a location specific enough to teleport to, yes."
Paradoxically enough, having confirmation that Drizzt was alive and on the Surface caused Zak's thoughts to turn towards his son more frequently than before.
Thankfully, he had plenty of other things he could use to distract himself from dwelling on those thoughts.
In addition to the assisting with teaching weapons-work that he had already been doing, he took Elkantar up on the offer to teach him Surface Common, and the two of them also spent a fair bit of time planning how to handle things once Drizzt's actual location was determined.
That planning also resulted in Elkantar explaining the details of how Qilué was connected to the Promenade's Surface allies, which not only gave Zak a new source of food for thought, it also brought about the project of figuring out a means of calculating how long it had been since the fateful raid that had been the catalyst for everything.
That information, once obtained, was passed on to the Tall Ones, so they could find the child Drizzt had spared and make sure she was receiving the help she needed to recover from the trauma of the raid.
And then, three and a half months after Zak's unexpected arrival at the Promenade, Elkantar came and told him that they finally knew where Drizzt was, which released one source of tension even as another took its place.
Drizzt's observation post was close enough to the farmhouse that nobody thought it would be a good idea to try and approach him without a second person to manage the farmers if it proved necessary.
So once Andy had found a spot from which he could watch both the farmers and the tree concealing Drizzt, he let Dove use his eyes to teleport in.
Given the children that were working close to the house, Dove felt, and Andy agreed, that their best chance of talking to Drizzt without the farmers getting involved would be during the midday meal. So they settled down to wait.
And when the woman who had to be the children's mother came out and rang the large bell on the farmhouse porch, Andy and Dove began moving through the edge of the trees towards Drizzt almost before the children started towards the house.
A little while after the entire family, including the boy who had been dropped in the pig trough, had entered the house, Drizzt heard quiet footsteps approaching from the left, slightly to his rear—and closer than he had expected anyone to be able to get to him.
But even as he began turning to see who had discovered him, the footsteps stopped, and a voice spoke in Goblin.
"No fight, Drizzt Do'Urden. Talk only."
Startled by the use of his name, Drizzt drew his blades even as he finished turning, and saw that the speaker was a now equally startled tall faerie.
The faerie's eyes and ears were oddly blunted, he was wearing a sword-belt over modified wizard robes... and his hands were held out in front of him, palm-up, open, and empty.
That last was enough for Drizzt to sheathe his blades, though he kept his hands near the hilts.
"How know name?" he asked, in the same language.
"Much talking to tell," the faerie replied. "Will tell, away from here."
After taking a moment to consider things—he had not yet seen anything conclusive while observing the family, but their interactions so far were much more like what he had seen in Blingdenstone than anything resembling Menzoberranzan, and he truly did need to know how the faerie had learned his name—Drizzt decided to ask another question.
"What name?" he said, pointing at the faerie.
"Andelver Aerasumé. Small name Andy."
Drizzt nodded. That the faerie had been willing to share his own name resolved his indecision. "Will come with. Go, will follow."
The faerie returned the nod, then turned to start heading deeper into the trees, and Drizzt followed him.
The faerie walked for just long enough that Drizzt thought they were probably out of human earshot of the house as long as neither of them raised their voices, and then sat down on a rock, gesturing for Drizzt to take a seat on a nearby fallen tree.
And once he had, the faerie looked at him seriously and said, "Use magic, no hurt, make good Surface words?"
That was obviously a request for permission, but Drizzt wasn't sure he wanted to trust the faerie that far yet. "Why Surface words?" he countered. "Why not Drow?"
"Drow bad language for telling. Not have words needed."
If Drizzt had not had the time in Blingdenstone, he wouldn't have believed the faerie's reason—but he had had it, so he did believe, and knew that he would have to let the faerie cast on him despite his distrust.
But he could at least make it clear that that was the only reason he was giving permission. "Do not trust. Know Drow missing words. Use magic for Surface words."
Moving slowly and carefully, the faerie cast the spell, and once Drizzt felt the magic take hold, he said, in the language the spell provided, "No one on the Surface should know my name and yet you do. How?"
"As I said," the faerie replied, "it's a long story. But it begins three and a half months ago, at a minor ritual for one of the deities you were falsely taught to believe were lying demons..."
Drizzt listened with growing incredulity and disbelief as the faerie spun out a tale involving two deities—one of them supposedly a good drow goddess—a community of good drow who followed that supposedly good goddess, a claim to his father's soul that the other deity supposedly had due to the reason for his death, and the actions said deity had supposedly taken when Zaknafein's soul had returned to Their keeping after being stolen from Their realm by Lloth.
When the faerie finished, Drizzt was silent for a long time, simply letting it all sink in.
And when he finally spoke, it was just four words. "I don't believe you."
"Would you believe Zaknafein?" the faerie asked. "One of my brothers will bring him if you want to speak with him."
Drizzt blinked in surprise. The faerie was offering to let him speak with the supposed Zaknafein here, not requiring him to go elsewhere to do so?
Could he take the risk, when he truly did not believe his father had actually been re-embodied? Did he have any way to determine if it actually was his father, despite all the odds against it?
That thought pulled up the memory of the fight with his father's effigy—specifically, the means by which he had determined that Zaknafein's spirit was present in it, not just the muscle memory. He had never used that move against anyone else, and while Malice's control of the effigy might have given her knowledge of the move itself, only Zaknafein would know the reason why Drizzt had developed it.
Which meant if he figured out the right words, there was a question he could ask that would let him be absolutely certain whether or not it was actually his father.
So once he felt that he knew how to phrase the question properly, he said, "If he is truly my father, I would."
The faerie nodded in response, and then he seemed to focus on something that Drizzt could not perceive. But after a moment, his attention returned to Drizzt, and he said, "I've passed the word that you want to speak to him. My brother will be here with him soon."
Drizzt gave a nod of his own, and reached into his pouch to rub Guen's figure while they waited.
Thankfully for his nerves, it was not long before two pairs of footsteps could be heard coming along their backtrail.
The first person to come into sight was another tall faerie, who bore a great resemblance to the one already with Drizzt.
But behind him... with skin as dark as Drizzt's own, pointed ears sticking up through long, unbound hair just as pale as Drizzt's, and a pair of longswords hanging from his belt, the man truly did look like Zaknafein.
And when he said "Hello, my son," it was Zaknafein's voice, in the same relieved and joyous tone he had used after Drizzt had confessed to sparing the elven child.
But Drizzt had to be sure. So he took a deep breath, and then began to speak in Drow.
"My father once told me that there was no way to improve the correct parry for a certain attack such that the defender would gain an advantage from the parry.
"If you are truly my father, then I ask you to tell me: What is that attack, what is the correct parry, and what did I eventually develop as a successful method of improving the correct parry in the manner you said was impossible?"
The man smiled Zaknafein's pleased smile, and replied, also in Drow, "The attack is the double-thrust low, the correct parry is the cross-down, and your improvement is a kick to the attacker's face after the cross-down."
After a long stunned moment, Drizzt breathed "Father", and then all but launched himself forward to wrap Zaknafein in a hug.
Loath as he was to interrupt such a heartfelt reunion, when a few minutes had passed without Drizzt showing any sign that he intended to end his embrace of Zaknafein anytime soon, Andy gently cleared his throat.
Zaknafein's shift in attention at the sound proved to be enough to break through Drizzt's focus on his father, and once both drow were looking at him, Andy said, "While I do understand how much this moment means to both of you, we ought to collect Aunt Dove and leave while the farmers are still unaware of our presence."
"True," Zak said. "Come on, son. You'll like it at the Promenade."
Zaknafein's agreement wiped away the reluctance Drizzt was displaying, and soon enough, the two drow and the two half-elves had returned to where Dove was waiting, and the five of them teleported to the usual spot near the Promenade's portals.
They ended up having to wait there for a little, while Qilué and Elkantar got free to come meet them, as Qilué had been clear that whatever was keeping Eilistraee from noticing Drizzt needed to be investigated before he actually entered the Promenade.
While they were waiting, Drizzt was asked about why he had been watching the farmers, and once he explained about the gnolls that he had killed because they intended to attack the farm, Dove decided to investigate the matter further, just in case the gnolls had been part of some larger threat.
And once Mystra, acting through Dove and Qilué, had removed the shroud the Spider Queen had laid on Drizzt, they all entered the Promenade.
